1. |
||||
|
Sacred stains
In the brain
Necrotic pain
Devil’s piss
God’s voice
The lord’s choice
Substantiates
Accepting fate
You were chosen
Mind abrasion
Thoughts were frozen
Thanks to Satan
Sunless land
Restless hand
Carcinoma
Loss of chroma
Ashen eyes
Tarnished skin
Decrepit voice
Death’s twin
You were chosen
Mind abrasion
Thoughts were frozen
Thanks to Satan
Sacred stains
They block our vision
Sacred stains
They are the reason
|
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2. |
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|
Do you know how are we living today?
For a cold and twisted tomorrow
Thats been driven in place
by a SNAKECHARMER!
Do you know how we’re getting thru today?
On shallow hopes and fading lights
What’s substance?
Uncertainty’s sentence
Now descending rain
Leaves smoking stains
Slither and change
SNAKECHARMER!
SNAKECHARMER!
It wasn’t cut up into pieces
Your rattle gave it up for me
A tongue forked spitting out these lies
by a SNAKECHARMER!
Inception of a disguise
Insidious, ensnaring a vice
Enter demise
Now descending rain
Leaves smoking stains
Slither and change
SNAKECHARMER!
SNAKECHARMER!
Stepping out you showed what you got
Lit within, burning coals on top of rot
Stepping out you showed what you got
A bodyless snatch handout was it not?
|
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3. |
FBLA III
02:02
|
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|
I spit on you
I spit on your grave
I’m tired of you
Gave it all I have to give
I’m spent on this
At the end of your rope, let you hang
It’s not a tragedy
It’s all you want to see
It’s not a tragedy
Unless you want it to be
It’s not a tragedy
For me
For you
Living in this pit
This pit of despair
I’m dying to get out
I can’t breathe anymore
Choking on all this scum
This wretched scum
At the end of your rope, let you hang
|
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4. |
Crown
02:50
|
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|
Crown, halo of flies
Drown, it’s not surprise
Living to see the end of the world
Dying to know the pain in your heart
Fleas, infest the skin
Disease, is your best friend
Living to see the end of the world
Dying to know the pain in your heart
Listen to the faces
Embrace your disgraces
You want to feel inside
You want to grab the prize and run
Your fallacy has grown
Your mind
You don’t exist
Dust, covers your eyes
Rust, controls the cries
Living to see the end of the world
Dying to know the pain in your heart
Sand, in your veins
Hand, of the left path
Living to see the end of the world
Dying to know the pain in your heart
|
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The Lungs Los Angeles, California
THE LUNGS mantra: “make it visceral,” and with their dynamic live shows and series of independently released EPs, this Los Angeles-based punk trio has been doing just that. Driven by the daily hand-to-mouth grind that they endure and fueled by the macro volatilities that sparked the anger of so many Americans, The Lungs express their discontent with a surge of infectious post-hardcore dynamism. ... more
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